


Shutting Out Fear

by ladyoneill



Category: The Maze Runner (2014)
Genre: Angst, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2805584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in the maze at night, Alby unconscious, the fear nearly overwhelms Thomas until he and Minho find a way to push it aside for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shutting Out Fear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sandwich_armada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandwich_armada/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this smutty interlude! I wish it was longer.

Night falls quickly and the stone walls and floors of the maze gradually lose their warmth. Alby remains unconscious, feverish and still, and Thomas debates for only a few seconds before stripping off his shirt and draping it over him. Minho follows suit, checking the older man's wound, before turning worried eyes on Thomas.

"He's alive," is all Thomas can think to say, because he's worried, too, and scared, and completely freaked out.

"For now," Minho responds softly, glancing around in fear, as if speaking too loudly might draw new Grievers to them.

Leaning back against a wall, Thomas draws his knees to his chin and runs his hands over his head before wrapping them around his legs. As Minho scoots over next to him, a cool wind blows through the section of the maze they're hiding in and they both shiver and press their shoulders together. Warm, firm skin on skin.

After a few minutes of silence, the distant metallic sound skittering across stone reaches them and they look at each other, neither breathing. Above them the moon shines nearly full and bright enough to illuminate the fear on their faces. Even hidden as best they can be in a crumbling section of the maze, Thomas knows the chances of them surviving the night are slim. While he and Minho can fight and run, abandoning Alby isn't an option.

He scrubs his hands over his head and face again, a nervous gesture, then returns to huddling against the cold. While there's plenty of material around for a fire, starting one would be a siren call to the Grievers. The wind howls and he holds himself tighter, shivering.

When Minho's arm creeps around his shoulders, he startles and their eyes meet. Minho's pupils are wide, black surrounded by a slim ring of dark brown. His lashes are long and flutter down as he breaks their gaze.

Adrenaline flooding through him, Thomas licks his lips.

"We're going to die."

With a shrug, Minho nods, his fingers tightening around Thomas' shoulder, digging in slightly. The grip is warm, dry, strong. They're so close, faces only inches apart, breaths mingling.

Something shifts in his head.

Thomas licks his lips again, then captures the other man's in a desperate kiss.

He can't remember if he's ever kissed anyone before, and this is probably the worst timing ever, but, when Minho returns the kiss, parting his lips, moaning softly into it, Thomas can only deepen it.

Even after only a few days here, he knows that some of the boys and young men find pleasure in each other. While he hasn't given it much thought for himself, and, again, has no memory of ever doing anything with another person, whether kissing or touching or sex, he has no problem with it.

From the way he pulls their bodies together, neither does Minho.

When their lips part, leaving both of them gasping and trembling, Thomas spares a glance at Alby still unconscious and unmoving, then places one hand on Minho's firm, well-defined chest, and slowly draws it down. His stomach clenches beneath the caress, and a small gasp echoes from his lips.

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah," Minho breathes and mimics the movement of Thomas' hand, caressing much paler, yet equally firm skin.

Thomas' cock twitches and warmth floods him. When Minho replaces his hand with his mouth, flicking his tongue over his rib cage, circling it around one of his nipples, all he can do is arch into the sudden burst of pleasure and wrap trembling fingers in the other man's soft, black hair.

His eyes want to fall shut. His mind wants to surrender to the need growing in him. But danger lurks, waiting to destroy them, so he keeps a part of his attention on the darkness surrounding them, listening past the low sounds of his groans and the lapping of Minho's tongue.

Otherwise, the night is silent. For the moment, the Grievers too far away to hear.

Leaning back against the cold wall, Thomas watches from beneath hooded eyes as Minho's hands fumble with the fastenings of his pants, his mouth never leaving his skin. When warm fingers push past layers of cotton and wrap around his half-hard cock, he has to bite back a loud cry of want.

It feels like forever--maybe it's been never, he doesn't know--but suddenly, at just one firm, dry pump, he's erect and the tip is wet, making Minho's fingers slick as they glide over it and back down.

Minho glances up, lips red and wet, eyes even wider and darker than before, and he softly asks, "You want my hand or mouth?"

His hand doesn't stop moving and Thomas helplessly arches into it, but the sight of those red lips and the pink tongue that slips out to wet them, make the decision for him.

"Mouth, fuck, yeah," he breathes, and his fingers slip from the other man's hair onto his shoulder as Minho slides back and down until he's nearly doubled over on his knees and his lips are pressed to the narrow trail of hair on Thomas' stomach. The kiss is hot, sending a shudder through him, and he bites back a second cry as he spills a bit more from his aching cock in anticipation.

And then those lips wrap hotly around the head, slide down in one, long kiss as Minho's hand pumps down the length to cup his throbbing balls. Thomas feels the tip hit the entrance of the other's throat, feels those muscles open and suck him down.

For a moment he forgets about the danger, the darkness, the cold, the friend unconscious a few feet away, and he pumps his hips uncontrollably. Minho starts enthusiastically bobbing his head takes him deep, breathing harshly through his nose every time the tip slides into his throat and his nose presses to Thomas' pubic bone. Finally, after several minutes, there's a purposeful scrape of teeth, a lick of tongue over the tip, and Thomas comes in hard shudders, gasping for air and scrabbling at the stone beneath his fingers, his other hand gripping Minho's shoulder so hard he has to be leaving bruises.

Minho sucks for another minute until Thomas moans at the sensitivity and tugs at his shoulder. With a wet pop, the other man pulls off, and there's a bit of white staining his lips. Suddenly wanting to taste what Minho did, he draws him up and against him for a hungry kiss.

He can taste himself and it's almost familiar, a tantalizing flavor, and Thomas wonders if he's done this before--bent over a man and suckled his dick, tasting his cum, the salt and sweet sourness of man.

As his own cock softens, he feels Minho's press hard against his stomach, and he reaches between them, fondles him through his pants until he gasps into the kiss. Their fingers brush against each others as they undo the button and zipper, and then Thomas takes over, wrapping his hand around the shaft and pumping it at a quick pace. It's already slick from sweat and the stickiness leaking from the slit, and it's all instinct. He can't remember if he's ever done this with himself let alone another man, but Minho's quickly shuddering and groaning, so he must be doing it right.

Only a minute or so more of heated, breathless kisses, and Minho spills over Thomas' fingers. As they break apart, the other man letting his forehead fall to Thomas' shoulder in exhaustion, he lifts his sticky fingers and licks them clean.

The taste is similar to his own. Minho watches from blazing eyes. Thomas smiles hesitantly, then groans softly when a hand cups his cheek before their lips meet in another kiss.

He doesn't know if they'll survive the night or, if they do, if this will ever happen again--or maybe more--but for this moment he's content, and no longer quite as scared.

End


End file.
